flashes of our lives in the multiverse
by Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs
Summary: Five lives Melinda May and Phil Coulson could have lived.


A/N: Title from 'Maybe in another universe, I deserve you' by Gaby Dunn (which is absolutely beautiful and everyone should check the whole thing out). This is sad and I'm sorry. Mentions of character death, though nothing graphic.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

I. _the one without Bahrain_

"Mom the poster is as straight as it could possibly be. I promise."

Melinda looks over her shoulder at her daughter, the teenager watching her with folded arms and a raised eyebrow, looking so like her father she can't help but roll her eyes.

"Just back away slowly," Skye teases, coming over and tugging her away, directing her towards the bed. "We can do the sheets while Dad brings up the fridge- all by himself because he's the big strong man of the family."

"I heard that young lady," Phil says, slightly out of breath as he lugs the silver mini fridge into the room, setting it down in the designated spot. "You chose a room on the third floor in a building without elevators on purpose, didn't you?"

"You've seen through my plan," Skye replies with a roll of her eyes, and when she's distracted Melinda tosses a pillow at her, grinning at the look on her daughter's face. "Who is the mother and who is the child in this relationship, again?"

"Indulge your old, tired parents. We'll be childless nine months out of the year now, we have to take advantage of this time," Melinda answers, coming over to wrap Skye in a hug, Phil coming to her other side to sandwich their daughter between them.

"You two have pillow fights on your own, don't lie to me," Skye says, but she allows the hug, resting her forehead against her mom's cheek. "You know I'm gonna miss you guys and your dorky attempts at family bonding time."

"It only took eighteen years for her to tell us she would miss us," Phil says and Skye rolls her eyes, shoving at their arms lightly.

"Okay, cute moment over, we have tons of unpack before my roommate gets here," she reminds them, and together they work on unpacking clothes and notebooks and Skye's computer. By the end of it all they're tired and sweaty, but Skye's half of the room is bright and colorful, and half of her tack board is covered with pictures of her and her parents, all over the world. Having parents that worked for a government agency that specialized in going all over the world had its advantages- especially when said parents refused to go anywhere without their only daughter.

She'd been to almost every continent, to dozens of countries, and learned multiple languages. She hadn't spent much time in a real school, instead learning from her parents and her grandmother, and occasionally going to classes on nearby college campuses. She'd always gotten good grades, and under her parents' supportive, watchful eyes had latched onto the computer sciences.

She'd decided on a university in Oxford, and had been accepted almost immediately. Her parents travelled enough that she wasn't far away at all- and considering that they were both friends with Tony Stark, could get to her in mere hours if she needed them. Her roommate seemed lovely- a bubbly, excited girl named Jemma who was a biochemistry studies major.

"Looks good kid," her dad says, slinging an arm around her shoulders and straightening the picture of the three of them when she's about nine with Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov in Disney World on the board. It's one of her favorite memories- Natasha screaming for effect on Space Mountain, Steve carrying her on his shoulders while they watched the Electric Parade, her mom and dad buying matching mouse ears and kissing when they thought she wasn't looking. They still do that, but she doesn't mind. They've been married for almost twenty five years, and she likes knowing they still love each other that much.

They always joke it's because her mom got the stomach bug and missed out on the mission to Bahrain Director Fury had wanted them to go on. If her dad hadn't stayed behind to take care of her, they never would have gotten together is the way they tell the story- but Skye knows it's more than that. Her mom's friend Maria Hill had gone instead, and the mission had nearly killed her; she was different than before, her mom told her. She used to smile more, but now she wears all black and people call her the Calvary- but never to her face. She flies the plane for her mom and dad's team, and she's never been anything but kind to Skye, but even she could see the iron underneath her skin.

She looks at the pictures of herself and her parents, and shivers when she thinks about not having them. She'd grown up knowing two people loved her more than anything in the world, that she'd been wanted and wished for before she'd been born. She'd grown up surrounded by the Avengers and the rest of SHIELD- people who taught her how to read scientific charts and who gave her the coolest, techiest birthday presents, people who taught her self-defense as soon as she could walk and who took her to Disney World and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben.

"You know you have to call us every day, right?" her mom says, hands on her shoulders as she looks at her seriously, dark hair falling briefly in her eyes before Skye brushes it away. "I don't care what time it is for us, you call us and let us know how your day went or what your professor said in class, or anything. Got it?"

Skye puts her hands on her mom's shoulders and look into her eyes, just as serious. "Got it, Mom. Every day."

"Good," Melinda answers, and then her eyes are glistening a little and Skye shakes her head.

"Mom you are not allowed to cry, okay, because then I will cry and then Dad will cry and Jemma will walk into a room of Coulsons crying. That's not the first impression I want to give."

"I'm _fine_," her mom insists, but she wraps Skye into a tight hug that she returns just as tightly, burying her face in her mom's dark hair as she squeezes her. "I'm going to miss you."

"Every day, remember?" Skye whispers into her neck, tears stinging her eyes because she's never gone more than a few days without her parents, when she stayed with her grandmother in Pennsylvania for a week every summer. "And I told Bruce he has to show you guys how to properly use Skype since you're both awful at it. And Steve knows to make sure you guys eat something other than take out or Dad's burgers when you're on the plane. Even Maria told me she'd give me updates on you two, so I'll know if you aren't eating your vegetables."

"We did okay with you," her dad says, his own eyes a little misty as he plants a kiss on her forehead. Skye smiles up at him, nodding.

"Yeah, I'm pretty great."

They're all laughing when there's a knock on the door, and a pretty girl with curls and a wide smile steps into the room, waving at them.

"Hello! I'm Jemma Simmons, and you must be Skye Coulson?" she asks, and Skye nods, coming over to help her with the bags she's balancing on her arms.

"It's nice to finally meet you! These are my parents," Skye says, gesturing towards them as they wave and smile back at Jemma.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Coulson!" Jemma exclaims, coming over to shake their hands, curls tumbling over her shoulders as she moves. "It's nice to meet you."

Just then two people- who Skye assumed were Jemma's parents- came in, and there was the flurry of introductions before the three of them disappeared to grab the rest of Jemma's things. Her mom's hand had slipped into her dad's like it usually did, and Skye couldn't help but smile.

"I guess it's time we head out," her dad, slightly hesitant as though he was waiting for her to agree. Skye nodded, clearing her throat.

"Yeah I think I'm good for now," she replied, slipping her arm through her mom's as they stepped out of the room, heading for the stairs. "Though the moment you leave I'll remember everything I've forgotten, I'm sure."

"You've got your card, if you need-" her mom starts, but Skye laughs, nudging her gently.

"I know Mom. Everything's going to be absolutely fine, I promise," she says, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Call me when you guys get back home, okay? Pet Ace for me, I'm gonna miss him more than both of you combined."

"Told you we shouldn't have gotten that dog," Phil said, shaking his head and winking at her. Skye rolls her eyes, then takes a moment to look at both of them before she flings herself at them, hugging them both tightly. They catch her weight, wrapping her up in a dual hug that's almost suffocating, but she doesn't let go. She feels her mom press a kiss to her hair and she squeezes tighter for a moment before she releases them, swallowing.

"Go on, go. This is my growing experience, can't do that if you're here," she says, putting on a brave face because she knows the minute they're out of sight she's going to miss them more than anything. Her mom looks like she might cry again, but she just links her fingers with her dad's and they turn, shooting looks over their shoulders until they've disappeared down the stairs. Skye takes a deep breath, closing her eyes.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket, and she laughs as she pulls it out, looking at her dad's number.

"That didn't take long."

* * *

II. _the one where she lets him in_

It's been two months, and he doesn't know if he's ever going to get his best friend back.

Bahrain was the worst thing he'd ever experienced, and for Melinda it had been ten times worse. She'd seen hell, and he didn't know how to reach the woman who he thought he used to know best.

He pauses outside her apartment door, taking a deep breath before he knocks. There's no sound, but he knows she's in there, so he opens the door, entering quietly. "Melinda?"

There's no response, so he toes off his shoes and shuts the door, padding towards her bedroom; she's curled up in bed, covers around her ears and all the lights off and curtains drawn. He sighs softly before heading towards the bed, grabbing one end of the comforter and slipping underneath it, joining her in the middle of the bed where he knows she's not sleeping.

"Hey," he says softly, fingers brushing her shoulder. She sighs, burying her face further into the pillow. "You're gonna have to talk to me sometime."

"Why can't you just let me be alone?" she asks, and she sounds so, so tired. Phil swallows, fingers finding her wrist this time.

"Because I love you. And I can't let you hide and lose yourself in this bedroom," he answers, letting himself be honest for the first time in two months. He hears her breathing stop and holds his own breath until she looks at him, dark eyes wet and shining.

"How?" she whispers, voice shaking. "How can you love me when you know what I've done? The people I've killed? There's so much blood on my hands now. I'm not…I'm not who I used to be before we went on that mission."

"You are Melinda May," he answers, reaching over and brushing the hair out of her eyes. "You have always been and always will be Melinda May. I fell in love with you over fifteen years ago, and you're still that same woman I fell in love with. You will always be that woman, no matter what. My hands aren't bloodless either."

May blinks, eyes still wet, and Coulson reaches out, thumbs brushing away the tears that fall.

"Let me help," he whispers, leaning in closer so his forehead touches hers, their noses brushing gently. "Please just let me in."

She leans forward with a hitching breath, nose pressed to his cheek as her mouth covers his, and he feels like the part of him that's been missing is back in place when she sighs against his lips. The kiss is soft and innocent, and his hand grips her hip under the blankets as she presses against him.

"I don't…know how to do this," she says softly, looking up at him hesitantly. "I'm not…I'm not the same person I was before that op, Phil. But I love you, and I want to try. It isn't going to be easy, but I want this."

He kisses her again because he can't help it, and she melts against him easily, one hand sliding into his hair.

"Whatever we have to do, we'll do it," he says, brushing his nose over hers and smiling softly. "I'm never letting you go."

"Good," she whispers, tucking herself against his chest. "Please don't let me go."

He holds her tighter; a promise.

* * *

III. _the one where he buries her_

He wishes they'd never agreed to the op in Bahrain.

He wishes she's never agreed to go inside with a plan that had no clear exit plan.

Sometimes he even wishes he'd been the one to go in first.

He's got her head in his lap and every time she breathes blood stains a new part of his pants. Soon enough, there wasn't going to be any clean fabric left. His heart is in his throat and they don't have an exit plan and he's watching her fade away right in front of him.

"Phil."

Her voice is hoarse and barely above a whisper and all he can think about is how he might not hear it again if they don't get out of this building.

"I'm here," he whispers back, and it takes him a moment to realize that his voice is choked because tears are running down his face, clear drops falling into Melinda's dark hair.

"I'm cold," she whispers, and she's shaking in his arms and there's blood on her lower lip; he wipes it away but it keeps dripping from her mouth whenever she coughs and his chest constricts every time she moves. "I'm not going home."

"Don't say that," he whispers fiercely, voice breaking as she tries to smile weakly at him. "I'll get you home."

"I know you will," she replies softly, and they both know she doesn't mean he'll get her home alive. "Tell Mama I'm sorry. I should have been more careful."

"Melinda-" he starts, but she shakes her head, eyes closing briefly before she opens them again, the light in them dimming.

"I love you," she whispers, because they've both known for a long time that what they had was more than simply friendship. He swallows the sob resting in his throat, choking on the words he was trying to say. "I love you, and I'm sorry."

She inhales and it's painful to hear; he tugs her closer, face buried in her hair as she breathes slower and slower.

"I love you," he whispers into her neck, nose pressed to her skin and tears on his cheeks. She inhales again, and he feels her lips curl into a faint smile against her cheek before she exhales.

She doesn't inhale again.

The extraction team finds them a few hours later. Phil's holding her head in his lap, and you'd think she was sleeping. Maria's the first one to reach them, and one look at Phil's eyes tells her this is a sleep Melinda won't wake up from.

When the other members reach them, Maria's eyes are red and Phil feels like he's aged ten years. It takes him a while to realize he has a deep graze on his shoulder that's sticky with blood, but he can't move; it feels like if he moves then this is real and she's really gone.

Maria places her hand on his shoulder, looking at him with eyes still wet with tears. "They're gonna move her now, Phil."

His chest feels like it's caving in, but he nods, shutting his eyes. "I promised I'd get her home."

Maria's hand tightens on his shoulder, and he hears her swallow.

They bury her a week later.

Phil never goes back into the field.

* * *

IV. _the one where he never comes back_

Maria's the one who tells her.

It's two words, two simple words, but she has the hardest time getting them out.

"Phil's dead."

She expects a multitude of reactions to the words: crying, silence, denial. She doesn't expect her to laugh.

"What'd he bet you this time?" she asks, rolling her eyes and turning back to her desk, going through the stack of papers there again. "If you got me to believe he was dead he'd do your laundry for a month, if you didn't you have to do his? Sorry Maria, looks like you're washing his dirty underwear for a month."

Maria swallows, touching Melinda's shoulder gently. She looks back at her, the small smile fading as she takes in the red rims around Maria's eyes.

"No," is all she says then, shaking her head. "No. Maria, no."

"Melinda, I'm-"

"He isn't dead. He _can't be_. I just talked to him last week," Melinda says, voice softening as she finishes her sentence. She looks up at Maria, eyes wide and bright, tears shimmering just on the edges. "He's going to walk through that door and claim he's finally won the prank war from the Academy any second. He has to. Maria, he _has_ to."

"I'm sorry, Melinda," Maria replies quietly, squeezing her shoulder again as Melinda drops her head into her hands, trying to regulate her breathing. She doesn't cry; Maria didn't expect her to. Not here. Not where people could see. She gives her a minute, and when she lifts her head, she is cool and composed; Maria knows different though- knows that underneath the surface she's moments from cracking. "The funeral's tomorrow. I thought you might like to go."

"Thank you," Melinda says quietly, and Maria nods, stepping back. She leaves because she knows Melinda can't handle more human interaction right now, but when she reaches the door, she turns back to find Melinda stroking the ring she wears on a chain around her neck.

Most of SHIELD attends the funeral, and the Avengers are there too. Maria is on one side of Melinda and Pepper is on the other; Pepper as one hand on Melinda's arm and a tissue in the other, and Stark keeps looking between her and Melinda like he doesn't know who's going to break first.

Maria's never seen Melinda so fragile. Even after Bahrain, she'd had iron under her skin. Now, she looks smaller and sadder, like the iron has turned to ice that's melting.

She wonders if Coulson had been her iron, even when she'd pushed him away.

It's the first time she's seen Melinda May cry, really cry, and it would freak her out if her chest didn't hurt so much. The service is beautiful, and one that Phil deserves- he'd died a hero, and that would be how he's remembered. Steve is the first one to throw soil on the coffin as it's lowered into the ground.

Melinda doesn't move, though everyone does around her. Maria and Pepper stay with her; Pepper waves Tony off and Maria nods briefly to Fury, but they stay on either side of her as she stares at the hole where the coffin rests, out of sight. The cemetery empties, and Melinda continues to stare, and Maria and Pepper continue to wait.

"You know I never told him," she says quietly when everyone is gone and it's just the three of them, sitting a few feet from the hole in the ground. "I hoped he knew, but I never told him I loved him. I always thought there'd be more time."

Pepper's hand covers Melinda's, and she inhales, a shaky breath.

"He's not coming back and I don't know what to do without him," she whispers, the sound ragged. "After Bahrain I couldn't…couldn't look at him because it hurt, and I pushed him away because he deserved something better than me. But I loved him, and now he's gone. And I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"He loved you," Pepper said softly, and Melinda releases a breath that sounds almost like a sob. "He did, Melinda. And I know you loved him. He knew that too."

Something in Melinda breaks then; she falls into Pepper and starts to cry, body wracking with sobs as the blonde enfolds her in a tight embrace, stroking her hair as she cries. Pepper murmurs quietly, letting her cry, and Maria watches with a heavy heart because it was never supposed to be this way. Melinda cries herself out after a while, and they get her home and into bed where she curls into herself; Pepper makes a list of things to stock in her kitchen and sends Maria out to get them, which she's only too glad to do. When they leave, Melinda's apartment is clean and well-stocked with food, and they both make a promise that they'll check in on her every few days.

Maria watches as Melinda slows pulls back from SHIELD; a month after Phil's death, she's applied for retirement from active duty and all desk work. She retreats in on herself, and nothing she or Pepper can say will reach her.

She doesn't see Melinda for months; it isn't until the anniversary of his death that she literally stumbles over her at Phil's grave. She's thin, thinner than Maria remembers, and she's still wearing black. She offers a ghost of a smile, and the sight of it hurts her heart. She still remembers Melinda's beautiful smile from the Academy, and sometimes she misses the girl who could take down someone twice her size in mere seconds, and smile while doing it.

"Been awhile," Maria says, sitting down next to her. Melinda nods, tucking her hair back behind her ear.

"I've been staying with my mother," she replies quietly, eyes affixed to his name carved in the granite. "I came back just for today. My flight leaves in a few hours."

"How are you?" Maria asks, and Melinda takes a breath, exhaling slowly.

"It was hard, at first," she answers, then shrugs. "Sometimes I just forget, and go to call him, and then suddenly remember. That hurts more. Other days I think I'm okay, and then something will remind me of him and it hurts all over again. When someone's a part of your life for so long, when someone's a part of _you_ for so long, it's hard to remember what it was like before them."

She takes another breath, finally looking at Maria fully.

"I loved him, and now he's gone, and I have to remember that I'm still here, sometimes. I had to leave SHIELD because every time I was there, all I could think about was him. Phil was SHIELD for me; he was there every step of the way with me, he graduated with me, he was my partner on my first op. He put me back together after I was unmade in Bahrain, and a part of him will always, always be there. But he's not here now, and it hurts to be here and remember that," she says, dark eyes soft and sad. "I'm trying to live, but it reminds me that he's not, and he should be. He was always the better of the two of us."

She smiles sadly and turns back to the gravestone, fingers brushing the edge of it. Her touch lingered on his name for a moment before she pushed herself to standing, and she rested her hand on Maria's shoulder for a moment before she began to walk away, arms wrapped around herself as she headed into the fading sun.

Maria watched her walk away, and knew she wouldn't be seeing Melinda May again.

* * *

V. _the one where SHIELD doesn't exist and the cliché happy ending does_

Falling for your neighbor is so cliché.

That doesn't stop Phil Coulson.

Melinda May is beautiful, brilliant, and way out of his league. The first time he meets her, he spills laundry detergent on her shoes and tells her his name is Cil Phoulson. Amazingly, she laughs, and it isn't the worst first meeting in the whole world. He discovers that they work in the same building, different floors, and suddenly, they're carpooling to work every day and she's bringing take out to his apartment while they watch The Voice.

He kisses her on a Tuesday, in the pouring rain, and it's just one cliché after another but she tastes like green tea and her hair gets tangled in his fingers when he pulls her closer. She smiles when he pulls away, and he beams back.

They fall into domesticity easily, and less than six months later, she's moving into his apartment and sleeping in his bed every night. He buys a ring and fumbles the proposal and she grins when he slides the ring onto her finger. They get married in a church on a bright December morning; she wears white and he tells her he loves her so many times she loses track.

They buy a house in the suburbs of Virginia, and within a year Phil's installing a baby seat in the backseat on a sensible sedan. He builds a swing set and they install a pool; their daughter gets a brother and Melinda's mother spends a full month with them this time, much to Phil's chagrin.

Melinda kisses him quiet and they spend time with their kids, and he can't imagine his life differently.


End file.
